


we're not mean in our town of halloween

by tastinglove



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Autumn, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Halloween, Halloween Challenge, M/M, Near Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastinglove/pseuds/tastinglove
Summary: ‘I’m not playing anything. You told me pumpkin carving was serious business, didn’t you?’ Slowly but surely a smile stretches back over his face and Harry wants to reach out and trace it with his thumb – but then he remembers he’s currently holding two giant orange fruits.‘Dead serious.'//10 halloween/fall themed ficlets each day until October 31st.





	1. Pumpkin carving

                                                                       

Bundled up in his soft brown jacket, the cream ligning warm around his neck, he proudly carries the giant pumpkin over the docks to James’ apartment. The older man in tow, cradling a smaller, more oval shaped version in the crook of his elbow. There’s a slight frown on his face and Harry thinks he looks adorable.

_‘I told you not to wear your Italian leather shoes to the pumpkin patch.’_

_'Well you didn’t tell me we’d be walking through actual mud.’_

_‘Come on, it wasn’t only mud.  
_

_'Oh you’re right, how could I forget the occasional lovely brown puddle in between?’_

‘It’s too early to play Ebinizer Scrooge, give me that.’ He takes the pumpkin out of James’ arms so that the older man can go ahead and unlock the door.

‘I’m not playing anything. You told me pumpkin carving was serious business, didn’t you?’ Slowly but surely a smile stretches back over his face and Harry wants to reach out and trace it with his thumb – but then he remembers he’s currently holding two giant orange fruits.

‘Dead serious.’ He waits a couple seconds in anticipation before-

‘Was that supposed to be a seasonal pun? Something Zack sent you on WhatsApp and you’re now trying to show off as your own?’ James’ sharp canines are peaking out from his grin and he brushes some of the last non-existing dirt off his coat.

‘Was it _scarily_ funny?’ He continues when James answers with a snort. ‘Did it _rattle your bones?_ ’

‘I think that’s quite enough from you.’ His boyfriend walks towards him, pressing their lips together to shut him up. James’ lips are soft, his mouth smooth and wet, but his nose is still cold from outside when it brushes against his own.

Harry instinctively licks his lips when he pulls back, savouring each of their intimate moments despite knowing he can now have as many of them as he wants.

‘Mh. I like your smile. Might take it as inspiration for my carving design.’ James raises his eyebrows exaggeratedly in response.

‘Is that your way of saying my smile is creepy?’

‘Not at all. You’re just really bad at taking compliments.’

‘Oh I can definitely be bad…’ James’ arms reach out to wrap around his back, pushing their chests together, the only thing between them the two pumpkins. And Harry almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous they are until the other man’s hands slide down into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing both of his butt checks tightly.

‘Hey’, he yelps.

‘You wanna start with those pumpkins now, pumpkin?’

He feels like letting out an indignant scoff at the nickname but James’ look is so fond that he simply bumps their shoulders together instead.

 _____________________________________________________________

They’re sat at the spacious coffee table, a blanket thrown over it to protect the material, cross-legged and knees touching.

Harry’s decided on cutting out two bats, one smaller than the other. The shape is simple enough but his tongue is still poking out between his teeth as he concentrates on using the sharp little knife just right.

He’s clumsier than he’d like to admit and he can see James watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye every so often, making sure all fingers are staying where they’re supposed to be.

His boyfriend, ever the artistic one, has decided on carving a spindly tree looking like it could be straight out of a Tim Burton movie. He’s precise with his cutting tool and Harry loves watching him work, his long fingers gliding over the edges of his creation.

The pulp and seeds of the pumpkins are still in the bowl infront of them, not smelling nearly as nice as he thought they would, definitely very far away from anything pumpkin spice. James said they could use the seeds though, sprinkle them with some olive oil and chili flakes to roast them.

It all feels so amazingly domestic to Harry that it makes him warm all over, preening at finally feeling settled and content.

‘What do you think?’, he asks while turning his finished work towards James. Some of the parts of the wings aren’t as neat as they could be but overall he’s quite chuffed with himself.

‘Very cute.’, James answers, an honest smile displayed on his lips.

‘Cute? It’s supposed to be spooky.’

‘Can’t it be both? Bats are indeed very spooky but I do think it’s cute that you made one of them bigger than the other. That’s very you and me, huh?’ Harry feels like awwing. He’s been enjoying the aspects of their height difference, going up on his tiptoes for hello kisses. James coming up behind him while he’s at the stove, wrapping his arms around him and commenting on how good the pasta looks. Them together in a bubble bath, Harry resting his head on James’ chest while the older man’s long legs frame him completely.

‘Hm. I guess that is cute then.’ Harry reaches over to cup his face softly, leaving a kiss right on the spot where his beard ends and the warm skin of his cheek begins.

He takes a look at James’ pumpkin as well, and he thinks it’s a bit unfair how talented he is at this considering he didn’t even want to do it in the first place.

‘Ok, your one is definitely getting the better place outside, so until people get a glimpse at my one they’ll think actually talented people are living in this house.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not that great.’ The carved tree does look lovely, detailed branches spreading over the round swell of its canvas.

‘I disagree.’ He decides to tease him, take it a bit further. ‘Actually, I think we should go out, buy 10 more pumpkins and make a whole forest.’

James fingers freeze around the knife he was just about to put down, his gaze snapping up at Harry hilariously fast. ‘You’re crazy.’, he says. His face completely cool but the hint of mirth in his voice giving him away.

‘Crazy about you, yeah.’, he murmurs - sliding his hand from just below James’ knee up to his thigh. He feels James muscles jump slightly under his touch, loves feeling the older man’s body react to him.

James finally puts the knife down all the way, turning and leaning closer to him. Their two personal spaces becoming one.

He reaches out for the back of Harry’s neck, playing with the short strands of hair there. Their mouths almost touching, hot air meeting in the middle before he can’t stand it anymore and surges up himself to meet James. He can taste the coconut oil of his lip balm. It’s pretty amazing. Neither of them pulls away for a long time.

‘Still wanna get those pumpkins then?’ James’ voice is raspy and he’s heard that particular tone so many times now but _god damn it…_ it gets him every time. Makes him want to tear his own clothes off within seconds to lay down and just wait to be ravished.

‘Nah…I think they can wait.’ And if the mess of their little carving project in the living room doesn’t get cleaned up until much much later because they make a much bigger mess in the bedroom…well no one has to know.


	2. Making apple cider

                                                        

 

 

The apples smell amazing all ligned up on the kitchen counter top. They look shiny and crisp, bringing a natural pop of colour into James’ home environment so that Harry almost wants to instagram them.

James had insisted if they were going to do this, they were going to do it properly. So he ended up dragging Harry to a little farmer’s market outside of town at nine am on this frosty and foggy Saturday.

The elderly lady at the fruit stand was probably the most cheerful person Harry had ever come across this early into the day. Her mismatched patterned jumper and cardigan so bright he felt immediately more awake.

In the end they had chosen a mixture of Yellow Delicious and Jonathon apples, to get the hopefully perfect desired combination of sweet and tart in their end result.

‘I sharpened this the other day, so please…be careful, love.’ James comes back from the cupboard with two knives and cutting boards. He looks handsome today. Dressed in a more casual almost mustard coloured jumper that compliments his skin tone unfairly well.

‘Believe it or not, I have cut an apple before, you know?’ James pinches his side in response, waiting for him to finish patting the last one dry after giving it a bit of a wash. He’s all for organic and natural but…no need to overdo it.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll kiss it better if you get hurt.’

‘How very selfless of you.’, he scoffs.

They divide the apples into two equal piles and start quartering them, leaving the beautiful red and green skin intact.

Once they’re done with that step from James’ beloved cook book, the older man clears away the stems and Harry leans down to get the food processor.

When he comes back up he sees James unabashedly and unapologetically ogling his butt. He knows his dark blue jeans are tight, giving him some nice perkiness he can even appreciate himself.

‘Hey, always be focused in the kitchen!’ The other man’s eyes deliberately stay on him for a few moments longer before the cheshire grin appears on his face.

‘Trust me, I’m very focused.’

‘On the wrong thing though.’

‘No, on the thing most dear to me in this room.’ Harry saunters over to him, crinkling his eyebrows.

‘Not sure if you mean me or just my butt..’ James reaches out to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to his temple.

‘How about both?’ Harry puts the processor down with an exaggerated sigh.

‘I guess that’s acceptable.’ He (not so) secretly loves it. His boyfriend’s smug face indicates he knows it too.

James chucks the slices into the container, liquifying them to what is essentially applesauce.

The consistency already looks pretty smooth but their instructions say to get rid of any pulp left.

So Harry presses the puree through a fine cloth until all of the golden juice pours into the large glass bottle. It looks delicious, smelling incredibly fruity and like talking a walk through an arcade of apple trees.

‘I know it’s tempting to try it right away but we should put in the fridge for half an hour and then enjoy a nice cold class, yeah?’ James asks, waiting for his answer before screwing the lid on.

‘Sure.’ His boyfriend smiles, putting the drink away for later consumption. When he turns around again, Harry meets him in the middle, letting his hands wander over the expanse of James’ chest. ‘Now, how ever shall we pass the time until it’s ready?’, he asks suggestively while tugging on the material of the sweatshirt – cashmere, soft under his fingertips.

‘I’m sure we can think of something.’ James’ eyes run over his face and Harry grins.

__________________________________________________________________

In the end, they don’t end up in bed but in the shower. Having forgone that part of their daily routine this morning to get out of the house in time. Slick skin pressing against eachother, heads leaning against the glass wall and the scent of almond and vanilla filling the space around and inbetween them.

Later they’re settled on the couch , each of them with a fresh glass in hand. The cider tastes nice, a good blend of sugary and sour. He likes that they made this together, likes that they go out and do stupid mundane things like buying apples. He’s just really smitten, okay?

‘Ok, I’m never gonna complain about going to the farmer’s market ever again. This is delicious.’ He watches James finish his sip before he answers, licking his lip – still slightly red from their earlier activities.

‘Ever again? Sorry, I don’t believe it. If I dragged you out of bed at eight in the morning every weekend, your level of grumpiness would not be tolerable.’ His voice is light as the sun outside reaches its peak, coming through thr living room windows.

‘Hey, I’m not grumpy.’, he blurts out. Opening his mouth wider in fake shock when James only gives his two raised eyebrows as a reaction. ‘Fine. Maybe I'll let you shower alone from on.’ The brief genuine displeasure at the thought of that on James’ face makes him cackle and taker another large gulp.

Two nights later, after a nice roast dinner with Marnie, they decide to use up the rest of the cider by making a spiced hot version of it. They’ve already chosen a movie to watch, Netflix ready and waiting for them on the TV in James’ bedroom. Harry wearing flannel pyjamas and James cuddled up in a cotton shirt and his dark blue robe bundled over him.

He adds the liquid along with some cinnamon sticks, cloves and slices of orange into a pot. As soon as everything gets heated up, the whole room pretty much perfectly smells like the epitome of fall and the first anticipation of Christmas. It’s really nice.

James’ hands settles at his lower back, sneaking under his shirt and rubbing casually, watching him stir.

‘Mhh. That smells incredible.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’

His boyfriend leans closer, suddenly pressing his nose against his neck and taking in a large whiff.

‘You smell even better, though.’

‘I mean..I did use **_your_ ** body wash.’ Harry hears him laugh softly before he moves over to get the brandy from the liquor cabinet.

He ends up pouring in a decent amount, giving him a look of ‘ _might as well_ ’. Harry’s definitely not complaining.

They let the concoction simmer for a few more minutes before ladling the drink into two festive cups.

Carefully cradling the cider over to the bedroom, where the gooey s’mores cookies they had picked up from their favourite bakery today are waiting on the bedside table.

They make themselves comfortable, huddled as close together as they possible can (not for a lack of warmth, simply because they want to, they always _always_ want to) and taking their first sips as The Shining starts to play.


	3. Corn maze

 

 

                                                                        

 

Visiting Brimstage Maze is something that comes up randomly, James picking Harry up from a day out visiting unis and other education centres in the area, looking at their upcoming spring courses as well as schedules. The winter ones have already started, but he feels good about getting a place some time in February.

They turn on the radio, chatting about what to make for dinner when the advert comes on.

_‘Halloween is right around the corner, and so is our corn maze! Tricks and treats for young and old at Brimstage Maze by Brimstage Road in Birkenhead.. Come find your way to us and then out of us!’_

‘Have you ever been?’, James asks – fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

‘What? To a corn maze? Or to Brimstage? Because both answers would be no.’

‘I swear one day I’m gonna take you on a road trip across the country.’ James shakes his head fondly, not even aware of the warmth that settles in Harry’s chest at those words.

‘I’ll hold you to that.’ It still gets him every time they plan things far ahead. The other day James started talking about a Christmas work event he wanted him to go along with it. He immediately agreed with joy but in the back of his head there’s sometimes still this tiny voice going _‘holy shit he’s thinking of being with me for months to come, he really loves me and I don’t deserve him’_. But then his boyfriend will lay him out on the bed later on, cover all his skin with his mouth and hands, whisper compliments and praises into his body…and maybe he’s just starting to believe he’s worthy of it.

‘But for now…maybe we could do Brimstage?’ Harry asks, not wanting the opportunity to pass by. A corn maze sounds like a fun date night.

‘Sure. We could do it tomorrow?’ James’ right arm reaches out to pat his knee, the touch warm and comfortable.

‘Yeah, let’s do it.’ The arm stays where it is all the way home.

It’s a couple days before Halloween and the mood is absolutely perfect. James has commented on how good he looks in his fluffy burgundy jacket twice within the last thirty minutes on the way here, so when Harry gets out of the car the cold is not the only reason for the flush across his cheeks and nose.

There’s an old brickstone building serving as a meeting point and restaurant slash café, a playground for young children and then, to Harry’s surprise, two mazes. At the admission stand they’re told they can choose whichever they want – number one would take about 40 minutes to get through, while the other one is more of a 60 minute experience.

They choose the second one, not being in any rush.

‘This is pretty cool.’ Harry says – a grin on his face as he stares at the giant, pretty much picturesque, corn plants.

James looks over to him, quirking one eyebrow. ‘You’ve seen corn before, right? I mean I know you’re a city boy but…’

Harry playfully kicks his shin. ‘Shut up.’, he says, smiling as he grabs the older man’s hand to pull him inside the maze.

__________________________________________________________________________________

They stroll through the maze slowly, the ground beneath them dry and crunching slightly with each step. Certain corners of the paths have been decorated specifically for Halloween, differently clothed scarecrows waiting for them. Some costumed with pirate eye patches, others with cowboy hats and flannel shirts. It’s all very charming.

‘Oooh I bet you’d suit that crown.’, Harrry teases, poking his tongue out as they come across one scarecrow in a princess dress up, small shiny silver tiara on top.

James lets out a tiny snort, staring at the creature.

‘Are you denying you’re a drama _queen_?’ Harry laughs, bumping their shoulders together.

His boyfriend turns towards him, amusement shining clearly in his eyes.

‘I wouldn’t dare. All I’m saying is that if you really want me to wear a crown…I want a bigger one.’

Harry fake coughs into his fist ‘Size queen.’

‘I heard that.’

‘Good.’

James raises up their linked hands, pressing a dry kiss onto his knuckles. Harry imagines he can feel his skin tingle from the movement.

There are also some signs tied to rows of corn, detailing the history of Halloween in the England: They read through a couple of them, learning about spirits, witchcraft and jack o'lanterns. It’s not incredibly busy, a few pairs of parents and kids making their way around.

The late afternoon air is chilly and it really feels like a perfect autumn day.

Harry closes the last inch between their bodies, leaning his head softly on James’ shoulder as their walk slowly comes to an end.

‘You okay? Tired?’, James asks, his chin coming to rest on top of Harry’s head.

‘Nah, I’m good. Just…happy.’ He waits for a moment, wondering if he should stop there but then decides…screw it. ‘You make me happy.’

James stops walking, making Harry pause with him. He untangles their fingers to settle both his hands on Harry’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Their foreheads rest together, surrounded by the greenery of the maze, and he feels like he’s in a romantic novel of some sorts.

‘I’m glad.’ He can almost taste the older man’s words on his own mouth, his pink hue making them look delicious. James’ right arm wanders up his body, tickling him, and ending up at the back of his head. Finally, _finally_ making their lips meet.

It’s warm and smooth, his boyfriend tentatively introducing his tongue and then they’re lost in one another for a few beautiful seconds.

When they pull apart - remembering they're indeed in public - Harry can’t help but grin. James’ gaze is still focused on his lips and when he sees his expresion, a bigger smile breaks out on his face as well.

‘What?’, he asks, laughter bubbling up his throat.

‘Nothing.’, he shrugs coyly and slings his arms around James’ shoulders, crossing them at the back. ‘It’s just that…we’re pretty **_corny_ ,** aren’t we?’


	4. Ghost hunting

                                                           

 

 

It’s a ridiculous idea, really, but they’re bored and high on love and giddy. So they grab two flashlights and make their way out. James driving them to the nearest forest, the one where they know the ruins of an old farm house still stand.

‘Is this what millennials consider romantic now?’, James asks sarcastically as he parks on the near by dirt road.

‘Oh please…you’re not _that_ old.’ He unbuckles his seatbelt, grinning to himself. ‘And don’t pretend like you’ll not enjoy having me all alone…in the dark…no on else aorund…’

‘If you’re suggesting sex in the forest..the answer is no. Even _I_ have my limits.’ Harry thinks he could get him to agree if he really wanted to but…that’s really not the plan. They’re adventurous enough but he’d rather not get poison ivy anywhere near his intimate areas.

‘Party pooper.’, he teases as they both get out of the car. It’s just past midnight, the sky incredibly and surprisingly clear. It’s cold, his breath crystallizing infront of him.

‘You’ll thank me later when we’re curled up in our bed instead. With no stinging-nettles and ants around us.’ He passes Harry one of the torches, letting their hands meet and rubbing their thumbs together briefly.

‘Fine, you’ve convinced me.’ Something else to look forward to for tonight then.

The black darkness gets illuminated by their lights as they make their way through the narrow path and further into the forest.

Surrounded by mostly pine trees, the air smells fresh and woody. Nature doesn’t sleep, so the amount of random noise around them is kind of overwhelming.

There’s a particularly loud crack somewhere right to him at some point and it makes him jump. James reaching out to squeez his elbow.

‘Don’t tell me you’re scared already.’ He’s not, not really anyway. But the whole atmosphere is kind of creepy. It both makes him excited and a bit anxious.

‘Pssh…of course not. Don’t know what gave you that idea.

‘Maybe you jumping and almost tumbling over like bambi…you might be the only baby deer in this forest I get to see after all.’

‘It’s not my fault I have normal reflexes to loud noises while you seem to be set in stone.' James’ face is brightened by the moon light when he turns towards him and he’s pretty sure both their smiles look the same.

’Are you saying I’m _stiff_?’, he asks - wiggling his eyebrows.

‘No…you wanted to wait until we’re home again, didn’t you?’ It’s random moments like these where he realizes he truly thinks of James’ apartment as his home too. Not just where his toothbrush sits at the sink and his socks are in a drawer, no…where he feels settles and comfortable.

‘You were the one who wanted to do this in the first place.’ Okay, so maybe he had watched a few too many Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes in the last week…sue him.

‘Well I need my partner in crime with me, don’t I?’ His partner in all things these days, really. He still hasn’t gotten quite used to it yet. _This is James, my partner. My boyfriend._

Their steps fall into a synchronised rhythm, the periphery of Harry’s flashlight catching a dark brown squirrel at one point.

They reach the clearing where the farm house is situated after about fifteen minutes. It must have been beautiful at some point, right there in the middle of a small nowhere, framed by luscious greenery.

The wood seems hopelessly stained, at least what is left of it still. Several planks missing everywhere around the structure. It’s a quiet night, but he imagines wind howling through the gaps – almost like the hut would be screaming from the inside out.

Tiny pieces of glass are still attached to the edges of the windows, shining under the stars. They look sharp, like teeth.

‘I’m not a real estate expert but I feel like this particular property is past its prime.’ James’ voice rips him out of his imagination.

‘Hey, you haven’t even see the inside yet.’

‘Ah yes, the whole _‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover thing’_...’ They walk up the four steps of stairs onto the small veranda area, the wood creaking under their steps. Nails poking out at some ends. ‘I did to that with you though…Thought you were a pretty face…and then it turned out you were pretty on the inside, too. **_Everywhere_** , really.’ Harry’s mouth drops open at the sudden declaration, missing a breath.

‘We’re about to go into a possibly haunted abandoned house and this is where your thoughts are at?’, he laughs, feeling a bit hysterical.

‘You should know by now that that’s where my mind is somehow _always_ at.’ Harry lets out another soft laugh, sounding more like a sigh. This man…this incredible man loves him. Loves him enough to do stupid spontaneous things like go on a midnight walk to look for supernatural creatures.

He leans forward, leaving a kiss on the corner of James’ mouth. Saving everything else for later.

‘Same’, he says. Sounding ridiculous but his boyfriend’s answering chuckle makes it all worth it. ‘Let’s check this place out then.’

The wood continues to moan under their feet. Looking up, there are large cobwebs all across the ceiling, making Harry shiver at the thought of just how many spiders might be living in here. It’s basically one giant empty room. There is trash on the floor from other curious visitors who apparently decided to be dicks.

Harry fantasizes who must have lived here. Probably a family. Two, maybe three kids. A simple life in some ways, very hard in others. He wonders what must have happened to them. If some sort of illness struck. If the kids left the house for bigger cities and adventures, parents staying behind to become old and grey and lonely. If someone snuck in, in the darkness of the night just like now, and decided to act upon his rage and commit a blood bath.

His neck is covered in goosebumps at the thought. Every possibility probably as likely as the other.

There’s a staircase going up to the second floor, the steps looking so fragile he doesn’t even want to risk trying them out. As he looks up, he sees something move. A shadow gliding through the night.

Suddenly, a black mass comes crashing down in his direction, making him scream.

‘Aaaaah!’

The thing lands next to his feet, squawking loudly. It’s a crow. _A god damn **crow.**_ He closes his eyes, leating out a breath of relief before –

‘Are you laughing at me?’, he asks, turning around to James who must have witnessed the whole scene And he is indeed. Clutching his stomach and shaking with laughter, the high points of his cheeks slightly red in the gleam of Harry’s flashlight.

‘I’m sorry but…that was hilarious.’ Harry scoffs at thim, but he feels the corners of his own lips tug up imminently as well.

‘Good to know you find me being scared half to death so funny.’ James presses his lips together, bursts of the smile still coming through and closes the space between them.

‘Remind me to thank you next time you have another brilliant idea like this.’, he says - his left hand coming up to trace Harry’s cheekbone.

And here they stand in this dingy hut, probably being watched by dozens of spiders, birds and bats (and who knows, maybe even ghosts of the past), their faces washed out by the night and all Harry can think is _God I love you. I really want to kiss you right now._

And so he does.


	5. Horror movie marathon

                                                                                  

 

 Carefully balancing the large bowl of popcorn on his lap, Harry leans back on the extra few pillows James has thrown onto the bed. It’s finally the weekend, his boyfriend having had a stressful week with pesky and unreliable clients. Harry listened dutifully to him whenever he came home and got everything off his chest. He knows James loves his job, wouldn’t change it for the world and is grateful to be back at it after the whole prison escapade. But he’s also glad every time he comes through the door, calls out Harry’s name and gets wrapped into a hug by the smaller man.

He can tell James is similarly relaxed now, his body framed by soft fabric and his shoulders not plagued by the tension of an eight hour day.

‘You comfortable?’, the older man asks – still trying to make everything absolutely perfect. He’s lit a few candles here and there, dimmed the light and offered him about ten different snack and drink options. He’s absolutely adorable.

‘If I say no, will you magically pull out five more pillows from somewhere?’ He feels incredibly pampered and almost bad for letting James do all of this while he’s just sitting here. But he senses James needs to do this before he can actually settle down next to him, ever the perfectonist. Practically ushering him out of the kitchen earlier when he had tried to make the popcorn himself.

‘Cheeky.’, James answers. ‘But also, yes.’ He looks so gentle that Harry just wants to cuddle up next to him already.

‘I’m absolutely fine. Very comfy. Now I just need a certain someone to finally sit down here…’, he says while patting the spot right beside him.

James laughs, his cheeks squishing up and making the corners of his eyes crinkle beautifully. ‘Your wish is my command.’

Once they’re finally next to eachother, the sheet drawn up to their stomachs, and their bodies meeting in the middle…Harry starts staring dreadfully at the tv screen. It’s not that he hates horror movies….he’s just not their number one fan, alright? Jump scares. Now _jump scares_ is what he really can’t stand.

‘So.’, James starts – settling his hand on top of Harry’s thigh beneath the blanket – ‘We’re starting with _The Witch_ then?’

‘Let’s do it.’ He’s heard about this one being more eerie and atmospheric than straight up gruesome so he’ll probably be able to handle this alright.

It turns out to be an unsettling folklore, a farmer’s daughter being accused of witchcraft and satanism in the seventeenth century. And, thankfully, it’s more creepy than downright scary. Only one moment towards the end actually making him jump slightly, the bowl in his hands being lifted upwards – but no popcorn spilling out.

James lets out an amused breath beside him, squeezing his leg.

‘Maybe wait a couple more minutes until the movie is over before actually eating some of that….Wouldn’t want you to choke.’ There’s a joke about choking and one of his boyfriend’s body parts somewhere in the back of his mind but…for now he’s too focused on the show down of the movie.

The credits roll, the screen turning darker and making the room around them look even more shadowy.

‘See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ James asks, an amused expression dancing on his face

‘Why do I feel like whatever you’ve chosen next will be about ten times worse?’ He tilts his head to the side, softly leaning the top of it on the other man’s shoulder.

‘Gotta ease you in gently, don’t I?’

‘Who knew James Nightingale would be such a fan of horror movies.’

‘I think there’s a lot you have yet to learn about me’, he answers – continuing to rub his fingers over Harry’s pants. His mouth goes a bit dry.

Clearing his throat, he answers ‘Can’t wait.’

‘Now, next we should do _The Conjuring_ , a contemporary classic, one could say.’ The smirk on his face looks devilish. It’s both incredibly hot and makes him stomach jump at the prospect of whatever he’s about to watch.

‘Sounds awful.’, he deadpans.

‘Oh I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Totally feel free to cuddle in closer and hide your face in my chest if you feel like it:’

‘You know that I’m already in a relationship and in bed with you, right? So if this is some master ploy to get me closer to you…it’s really not necessary. I’m very willing, trust me.’

‘And I’m very happy and grateful. But you’re not getting out of watching this, sorry.’

‘Fine.’, he mumbles under his breath. Lifting his head and leaning against the cushions again instead just to spite James.

They’re around the four minute mark when the first jump scare really, **_really_** gets him. His leg moving so suddenly James’ hand immediately gets knocked off from it

‘Fucking hell.’ His boyfriend only chuckles, engrossed in the movie as well.

It’s littered with way too many moments like this and utter tension that Harry can feel in his entire body. Eventually, he relents and snuggles back up to the older man again, halfway hiding his face near his collarbone.

When it finally ends he can only mutter out ‘I hate you so much.’ into the fabric of James’ jumper.

‘I love you, too.’, he answers humorously.

‘That was like…actually the worst. _You’re_ the worst for making me sit through this.’

Harry stuffs some more popcorn in his mouth to choke down the feeling of creepiness all over his body.

‘Aw come on, you actually looked quite cozy there towards the end. Seemed like you were enjoying it.’

‘I’m surprised you went for something like this and not some black and white artsy thriller from the seventies to be honest.’

‘Are you calling me old-fashioned? Or simply old?’

‘If I were mean I’d say both but….let’s just go with old-fashioned. Classically inclined.’

‘Mh. I like that.’ James watches him for a moment longer, studying his face, before reaching out to tug him closer by his chin – pressing their mouths together fervently.

He can taste the sugar coating of the popcorn on both their lips and let’s out a small moan. Doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this feeling. Doesn’t want to. He lets his tongue swiftly glide over James’ bottom lip before the older man tugs at his with teeth – leaving behind a nice throbbing feeling before pulling back.

James’ mouth is red and glistening and oh so inviting. There are days where he feels like he could sustain himself on it alone. But then the other man proves how much else he has to offer with fingertips and thrusts. And Harry knows he’ll never be full enough of him. Neither of them would have it any other way.

They finally manage to tear their eyes away from eachother again, James leaning over to take a peek at the clock on the bedside table.

‘It’s 2 am…How about we watch at least the first part of the _Scream_ series and then we’ll finish off more lightly with _The Sixth Sense_. I promise you’ll be able to sleep after that one.’

Harry furrows his eyebrows, feels the wrinkle form inbetween them.

‘Isn’t that the _‘I see dead people’_ one?’

‘Yes.’

‘Doesn’t really sound like something that will help me sleep peacefully, does it?'

‘Well, if all goes wrong.’, he says – slinging his arm over Harry’s shoulder, one finger slipping beneath his jumper and rubbing his bare skin – ‘You have your big bad boyfriend right next to you for protection.’ His hand slides further down his shirt, along his chest muscle.

‘If your hand moves any further I might just question your intentions with me, Mr. Nightingale.’, he teases – biting his lip because he knows the effect it has on James.

His ring finger reaches his nipple and Harry knows that either way…he’ll definitely be _taken care of_ tonight.


	6. Bonfire

                                                           

 

When James tells him he has an allotment garden half an hour outside of town, Harry already starts thinking of summer days they could spend there. Lounging on sun chairs, drinking iced tea and having water fights – he’s sure James would look amazingly disgruntled.

But when he looks outside the window, he’s quickly reminded it’s still October. A murky grey, browned leaves being blown around by a breeze. When he went out to the shops this morning, his ears went so cold he felt like they would fall off.

Harry grew up without a garden, a tiny balcony serving as his way outside when he still lived with his mom. His boarding school experience afterwards changed that, a giant park near by to play football and run and let out that teenage energy. Even if he sometimes felt miserable during his early school years, it was his one place of escapism. Which then sort of promptly got taken away from him when he moved here.

He likes Hollyoaks well enough, a quaint town with a pond and docks. He really shouldn’t be complaining, pretty much having taken up permanent residency in James’ flat without them ever bringing up the words ‘moving in’…not yet. One day he’ll gave to guts to actually ask him, or maybe James will break first. There are moments where he stares at him and Harry’s so sure he’s about to officially ask him…just before he breaks out in a shy smile to change the topic and Harry can only follow suit. He doesn’t mind, what they have going on right now is _so good_ and he kind of enjoys the anticipation of it all.

So he’s not necessarily grumpy but he can’t stop thinking about the damn garden. And when they sit together for dinner a couple nights later, digging into the warm homemade casserole, James can read him like an open book – as always.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’, he starts, ‘And reading up on the guidelines of that allotment garden I talked about earlier this week.’ Harry stops chewing, giving him his full attention.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah and it turns out we’re actually allowed to make a small bonfire in there. I know it’s probably not the most exciting thing you’ve ever heard but we could-‘

‘Yes.’; he blurts out, making his boyfriend breathe out a laugh. Oops, maybe a bit too eager. He remembers a bonfire night from many, many years ago. Some class mates and him having their first beers and feeling oh so grown up. He already knows this will be infinitely better, can’t wait for the new memories.

‘Alright then. I know the proper bonfire night is on the fifth of November but we could go this week if you wanted?’

‘I want to:’ he answers, linking their feet together under the table.

___________________________________________________________________________

The garden turns out to be cute, surrounded by medium height hedges that make his lungs feel clear whenever he takes a large gulp of air in. The grass short but well taken care of and Harry thinks he has to ask James if he has a secret talent for gardening or if he’s hired someone to take care of this.

A small part of the garden is sectioned off, which James proudly introduces as his herb corner. Harry has very little knowledge on the subject but he’s thankful for whatever makes his meals always taste and smell so amazing.

They step onto the tiny veranda and into the small wooden shed to carry out two of the chairs, placing them in the middle of the garden, deciding that’s where the fire should be as well.

‘I’ll go and stack up the logs, you go and get the food ready.’ James suggests, already pulling up the paws of his cashmere sweater to not get them dirty. God Harry loves his arms.

‘Yes, sir.’, he fake salutes – making both of them laugh – before going to grab the bag they brought with them and unpacking the content on the small talble in the shed.

He gets out the metal skewers and starts to plop on the pre-cooked sausages. Continuing to wrap sour dough they had made from scratch earlier today around it – Harry’s pretty sure there’s still some flour somewhere in his hair from their kitchen adventure. He also makes a couple skewers with just a few fresh vegetables, cut up tomatoes, sweet peppers and zucchinis and mushrooms. It’s an easy task but the end result is quite satisfying.

And for their dessert, which quite frankly Harry considers the most important part, he places giant fluffy marshmallows on top of the sticks.

Carrying them all out on a tray, he gets to see the moment just as James starts the fire. The wood catching a blue spark before the red warmth gets distributed all over, the flame licking its way up the structure.

Maybe it’s some god damn cheesy primal instinct but….his boyfriend has just made a fire for him, still standing there gloriously with his sleeves rolled up…and it’s kind of the hottest thing ever.

Harry clears his throat, pulling himself out of his own thoughts and shaking his head. He’s no caveman and he does have self-control, he totally does.

‘Honey!’, he calls out jokingly. ‘The food is prepared.’

James turnes around to him at the sound, an amused glint in his eyes.

‘Excellent. I knew I could make a little house wife out of you somehow.’ He saunters over to him, placing his large hands on Harry’s hips, his thumbs rubbing in circles.

‘Hey, don’t get cheeky. You’d have to actually wife me up for that to happen, you know?’ He means for it to come out as a joke, doesn’t even think anything of it.

‘While that’s not a possibility…I could definitely _husband_ you up someday.’ It feels like the air gets sucked out of his lungs, all the moisture leaving his mouth. And James…James looks so calm as he says it. The absolute sincerity displayed on his face, the confidence with which he said it…it both scares the shit out of him and makes him want to say _‘put a ring on me right now.’_ He settles for somewhere in the safe middle ground.

‘You should probably taste this food first before suggesting something like that. Might end badly for you.’

‘Mh. I can’t wait to be convinced then.’ He presses Harry’s sides one more time before they settle down in their chairs.

And so they grill the sausages, watching as the dough turns golden brown and the delicious smell starts to fill their noses. He nearly burns his fingers a couple times when he grabs the skewers to hastily, mouth watering at the fresh meat and vegetables. It tastes amazing. The whole evening feels amazing.

James telling funny stories about his time at law school, Harry reminiscing to him about a summer spent in football camp and having one of his early gay awakenings.

He’s been looking forward to the marshmallows since they started, absentmindedly licking his lips as they puff up infront of him.

When he deems the first on as finally ready, he digs into it immediately – moaning at the sweet, warm sugary goodness filling his mouth. James makes a similar sound next to him but when Harry briefly looks over…he realizes he’s not actually enjoying the treat himself…but rather staring at him. Particularly his mouth.

Like in a trance, James reaches out to wipe something away from the corner of his lips. Harry tracing the spot with his tongue afterwards to make sure everything is gone. And because he knows exactly what is going through the older man’s mind right now.

‘I should have known this was a bad idea. You’re a monster.’ James sighs resignedly.

‘What? Me eating something sticky and white is not a good idea? I’ll remember that.’

‘A monster.’, James repeats fondly - leaning over to catch the last of the residue off his lips.


	7. Oktoberfest

                                                           

 

There’s a version of the German Oktoberfest in Liverpool. He heard some guys talk about it once back when he had first gotten into uni, boasting about how many beers they would chug and how irresistible the girls would find them in their traditional leather trousers.

He hasn’t had a reason to give the whole thing much thought since then but when the Sunday newspaper presents the festivity in its ad column….he’s kind of tempted. There’s something oddly romantic about the idea of going to this giant overblown fun fair and eating candy floss that James will pretend to hate but lick of his lips regardless. There’s a cliché film playing in his mind where he wins his boyfriend a rose or stuffed animal, holding hands as the different smells of food follow them on their way around.

They’re in bed when he brings it up, James having an early morning waiting for him the next day. He’s lying on his back, Harry settling down next to his chest and James’ arm immediately reaching out to wrap around him, pulling him even closer. They always sleep best like this.

‘Do you have something planned this Friday?’, he asks – his lips pressing into the softness of James’ night shirt.

‘Apart from getting to hold you again like this in the evening? No, why?’

Harry hides a smile. ‘How would you feel about going to the Oktoberfest up in Liverpool? Feels like we should honor this month somehow, right?’

‘Mhh. Alright, we could do that. But don’t even think about trying to use your puppy dog eyes to get me to consume insane amounts of beer and bratwurst, alright?’ He tickles the top of Harry’s spine, the touch making him melt completely into the cushions.

‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He turns off the lamp on the bedside table, James tucking up the sheets to their chins. Several moments pass and he thinks his boyfriend might already be on his way to dreaming when he can’t help but whisper out. ‘Might convince you to eat a candy apple though.’

James bursts out a breathy laugh, kissing his forehead. ‘Go to sleep.’

_______________________________________________________________

Harry’s surrounded by pastel coloured dirndls in about ten different shades everywhere he looks, toddlers in tiny lederhosen begging for another ride at the carousel and loud noise spilling out from the overstuffed beer tents. It’s a bit overwhelming but pretty much exactly what he had expected.

‘So.’; James starts, grabbing his hand. ‘What do you wanna do first?’ Him and James are part of the crowd that has come dressed casual, dark pants and knitted jumpers. The older man has a new grey coat with lapels that just beg to pulled down for a kiss.

‘Oooh. Let’s do can knockdown. Might be the only thing I’m good at.’

‘Good idea. I know for a fact you’re _very_ talented with your hands.’ Harry lets out a too loud snort and drags him through the crowd.

They arrive at the stand, Harry handing the bored looking teenager behind the counter the couple coins.

He throws three rounds with pretty good aim, James even cheering once from where he’s standing on the side – watching him with proud and fond warm eyes.

In the end he wins a keychain with a fluffy purple heart dangling from it. It’s quite tacky but he still presents it triumphantly to his boyfriend.

‘Tadaa!’

‘Well done. Though.... I’m sure you won’t be terribly mad at me if I don’t attach this to my brief case or set of keys?’

‘But this is a physical manifestation of my love for you, James.’, he pouts out exaggeratedly. Pressing the thing into James’ chest. The older man sighs, picks up his hand with the chain still in it and presses two kisses on his knuckles. Harry can feel his warm breath on his skin and kind of wants to blurt out _‘Just hold my hand forever’_

‘I guess we could put it on the spare key in the drawer.’ He relents playfully before the other man even has to grasp for another excuse.

‘Thank you.’ James pauses before leaning down to kiss him briefly, his beard a familiar comfort against his own soft skin by now. ‘Besides, don’t need a manifestation when I’ve got you with me in the flesh anyway, don’t I?’ Harry’s heart blossoms whenever the older man speaks so surely of their love now, glad he’s been able to show him he’s not going anywhere. That he’s not going to sleep through his fingers.

‘Smart thinking.’, he answers while tugging at one of James’ belt loops.

They stroll around, watching people fidget in line for giant roller coasters and then placing bets on whether or not they will be throwing up. One guy with his pants hanging so low they might as well not be on actually ends up emptying his stomach, the girl next to him – probably his date – getting off the ride at the end with quick steps and a twisted face. Both him and James laughing at the scene until the people around start to stare weirdly at them, Harry hiding his face in his boyfriend’s chest. Giggles still coming out when James slings his arm around him and leads him away.

Harry does end up eating a bratwurst in a bread roll, ketchup slathered on top. It tastes pretty damn amazing, that alone making it worth coming here.

James sticks to a warm buttery pretzel that looks like it’s fresh out of the oven. For a couple moments he thinks about persuading his boyfriend to go and have a beer but then he remembers they have that fancy pale ale at home he has come to appreciate quite a bit over the past couple weeks.

They do end up buying a shiny candy coated apple though, wrapped up tightly for the way home.

‘We can make some chocolate covered strawberries too, if you want. Open up a bottle of champagne and have ourselves a nice evening.’ It sounds better than anything he could imagine, can pracitcally already feel the fizzy alcohol go down his throat chased by dark chocolate straight from James’ lips.

‘Sounds brilliant.’ The fluffy key chain in the pocket of his trousers not even coming to close to the size of his love for this man.


	8. Autumn walk

                                                                        

 

Harry’s breath puffs out like a tiny cloud infront of him, diappearing after a few seconds. His new dark brown boots crunching over countless and countless upon leafs. It looks absolutely gorgeous, they’re absolutely piled everywhere. Flecks of dark red and burned orange littering the park, dusty yellow and vanishing green decorating the grounds and benches. His hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, thick scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders slightly raised up to cover his ears.

There’s a thin layer of frost on the grass, dogs running over it undisturbedly, their owners following gingerly– watching their steps.

It’s early afternoon, the street lamps not on yet and the subtle darkness that naturally comes with the change of seasons tinging everything slightly blue and grey. Making for a nice atmosphere that makes you both excited to stroll alaong and get back home to cuddle up on the couch again.

James is next to him, carrying his coffee cup with his leather-gloved hand. Looking like he’s some model out of a catalogue for fall fashion. Harry is both in awe of him and wanting to scream _‘this is mine, he’s all mine’_ . He’d surprised him at work today, bringing by said coffee for his lunch break. He’s done it a few times now – some of James’ colleagues even greeting him by his name at this point.

His boyfriend’s smile is worth it every single time, the way he looks up when Harry knocks at the door and his whole frame relaxes immediately. Harry thinks he should plan something for his birthday, get some people from the office involved as well. Maybe James would pretend to be bashful but…he knows he secretly loves a good champagne toast.

‘This is really good.’ James says after taking another sip.

‘Hm. You’ll be happy to hear then that it’s actually from this new hipster place you’ve been refusing to try out with me.’

The plastic cup gets stop mid way to his mouth, the older man turning his head to quirk an eyebrow at him.

‘Really?’

‘Really. I was this close to getting you something with caramel or pumpkin spice but…you wouldn’t have touched that after taking one sip anyway.’

‘Black coffee is where it’s at and you know it. I don’t need my drink to be a dessert’

‘You were the one who turned me onto almond milk. You can’t blame me if that tastes amazing with some chocolate drizzle.’ James pulls out one his hand out of his coat pocket, reaching over to quickly pinch the side of Harry’s butt cheek.

‘You’re sweet so I guess it’s only fitting you like sweet things too.’

‘Don’t know how I ended up with you then..’, he questions mockingly.

‘I guess you needed to broaden you palette.’ James kisses his cheek, staying there for a second to inhale the perfume he had bought Harry the other week. He’s been using it pretty much ever day since then, genuinely loving the aroma. Sweet vanilla with a bit of sandelwood and just the tiniest bit of spearmint.

As they go deeper into the park, the sun slowly but surely disappearing behind growing clouds, the piles of leafs added up under the trees get bigger and bigger. He has a flashback to being five years old and jumping into a mountain like that, basically being swalloed by the mass and feeling like it’s the absolute best thing in the world.

‘James?’, he starts asking innocently.

‘Hm?’

‘Let’s say on a scale from one to ten…how mad would you be if I pushed you into one of those piles of leafs?’ James follows his gaze and quickly finishes his coffee, throwing it in the almost overflowing bin.

‘I’d say somewhere on a level of…no sex for a week for you.’ His grin is bright and mischievous as he answers, Harry’s mouth in response gaping open and closed like a fish out of water.

‘Oh please.’, he says – gently shoving the older man’s chest. ‘You wouldn’t last two days.’

‘I’m very competitive.’, he answers sultry, grabbing Harry’s hand that’s still on top of his coat and letting his own fingers glide over his skin and up to his wrist.

‘That’s because you never play by the rules.’ His eyes automatically lower themselves to James’ mouth when they’re standing this close, rosy red from the cold.

‘Still got myself a nice little prize somehow, didn’t I?’ The other man lets his hands drop down to the seam of Harry’s jacket, playing with the material and pulling them that last inch further together.

‘I think I’m the real winner here though.’ He definitely feels like it. Wants to yell it from the roof tops, no matter how cheesy it sounds, that James is the best thing that has ever happened to him. The best thing he has ever gained by losing something else. Something that didn’t even matter that much in the end after all.

‘Let’s share our victory then, bask in all it’s _glory_ together.’ Their bodies press together, finally some warmth spreading up Harry’s limbs. If James didn’t have to go back to work soon, he’d be very tempted to start something right now.

‘So you’re definitely saying no to the leaf pile then?’, he quips one more time, a silly smirk forming on his face.

‘Sorry love, not happening.’ He pecks Harry’s nose before they continue their walk. ‘I remember Ellie once playing with a bunch of leafs in our backyard. She was practically covered from head to toe when she suddenly screeched and nearly burst my poor eardrums. Turns out there was a hedgehog hiding in there and she almost stepped on it.’ Harry snorts out a laugh.

‘I’m sure that was quite traumatic. Both for her and the hedgehog.’

They slowly make their way back, James sadly reminding both of them he still has a meeting later on today.

‘Thanks again, darling. For taking me out of my mid-day slump.’ He kisses Harry softly at the point where their returning paths split themselves.

‘You’re very welcome.’

‘I guess we could stop by that coffee shop together again some time later this week then.’ Harry smiles, glad he’s been able to convince James’ snobby tastebuds.

‘Already looking forward to it.’


	9. Baking pumpkin pie

                                                               

 

James finishes putting out the measuring spoons and cups while Harry carefully starts scrolling to the top of the recipe on his iphone.

‘Okay, dry ingredients first.’, he begins. Grabbing the flour, salt and baking powder while his boyfriend opens up a new packet of sugar.

‘Do you wanna mix, or should I?’, James questions as he dumps the heap into the large ceramic bowl.

‘Let me, I’ve not been working out at the gym for nothing, you know.’, he jokes – demonstratingly flexing his arm.

‘Mh, trust me…I’ve noticed.’ James reaches out to squeeze his biceps, rubbing the muscle appreciatively. Harry has never been super scrawny but he’s been putting in a bit of extra work recently. With Christmas coming up it doesn’t hurt to bulk up a bit, knowing he’ll drown his weight in ginger bread and mulled wine at some point. Being loved by James makes him feel incredible and he wants to show that on the outside too. So he’s also started dressing a bit more smart, changing out some hoodies for comfortable button ups and washed out jeans for dark pants that cling nicely to his legs. And butt, as James loves to adoringly point out.

He combines the mixture until he sees no lumps left, all of it coming together as one mountain of white powder.

James starts cutting up the cold butter into slices, the recipe over and over again pointing out how essential the temperature is for the dough to be perfect.

Transporting said butter and flower combination into the food processor, they pulse everything together, their hands laying together on top of the device so nothing spills out. Adding ice cold water and watching slowly as a ball starts to form – a few crumbs of butter still visible.

James takes out the mass, flattening it down to a disk and wrapping the whole thing in plastic foil – putting it into the refrigerator to let it set for fourty minutes.

‘Wanna finish that episode from earlier while we wait?’ Harry asks while his boyfriend cleans off his hands on a kitchen towel. Somehow he’s managed to get James into watching _Stranger Things_ with him. He’d probably never admit it out loud but Harry definitely knows he njoys the 80s vibes and has praised the soundtrack and cinematography throughout the first season. They started the second one last night, the storyline taking place around Halloween fitting perfectly into the current mood, but…got a bit distracted with eachother before they could get to the end.

James smiles at the suggestion. ‘Absolutely.’

When the timer goes off just as the episode is ending, they climb up from the couch again – stretching out their limbs and Harry briefly kneeding James’ neck muscles on their way over to the kitchen counter.

He grabs the chilled dough from the fridge, rolling it out with some flour, James stretching up to get down the pie dish that looks brand new.

‘See...the recipe says the dough needs to be quite thin but I know exactly that if I transfer this know….there’s just gonna be a giant hole in the middle.’, he mumbles while contemplating the next step.

‘Come on, I believe in you. And even if that does happen, we can always patch it up.’

‘You put way too much faith in me’

‘And yet somehow you keep exceeding my expectations in every way….’ Harry looks at him, temporarily forgetting about the baking, and knows the older man’s words have a deeper meaning behind them as well. He starts feeling the blush on his cheeks when he finally decides to move the dough over – miraculously managing not to rip it.

‘See, told you so.’, his boyfriend says as he reaches out to rub Harry’s lower back. James trims the edge and pats it down pretty and neat. Harry kisses his cheek just before he leans down to put in the oven for a dry bake.

While the last ten minutes on the timer run down, they start preparing the filling. Having chosen canned pumpkin for convenience, they add eggs, brown sugar, some more all-purpose flour and salt to even out the sweetness, and the typical mixture of spices – containing ground ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. The aroma spreading into the air of the kitchen is absolutely incredible. James pours in the creamy condensed milk, a special lactose free one they had found at a wholesaler next town, and finishes combining the ingredients – a lovely dark orange colour being the end result.

When the oven beeps, signalling the crust is done, Harry puts on the pale lilac oven gloves James had bought for him when he first started living here permanently – surprised by how many times the younger man had almost burned his fingers in the process of making them dinner.

The pie looks golden brown and flaky, just the way it should be. James pours in the filling and back in goes their little creation for another fifty minutes.

His lover's playlist is on the background, James looking at him – his eyes wide and brimming over with love that Harry feels all over – before wordlessly taking his hands and pulling him into an embrace. Next thing he knows, they’re slow dancing to Beethoven’s _Für Elise_.

He remembers 15 year old Harry dreaming of moments like this in the dark of the night. The fact that it’s here now, a reality for him with the love of his life (and it used to scare him senseless, thinking about James like that…but now it’s a beautiful comfort and constant every day, how ironic) is too good to put into words.

The older man rubs his shoulder blade, Harry leaving several kisses on James neck in return – caressing the soft skin up to his beard with his lips. ‘I love you.’, he presses to his ear. He feels the other man's hands tremble slightly along his body before he whispers out an ‘I love you, too.’

They sway like that for a little while, eventually moving to the sofa where they enjoy a cup of coffee each – chatting while James answers an email or two on his laptop until the timer finally goes off.

Harry puts the pie onto the cooling rack, the centre of it still just slightly jiggly as the instructions pointed out it would be. He feels tempted to just stick his finger and scoop out a little portion but in the end decides it will be worth it to let it cool down to room temperature.

‘Should we make some whipped cream to go on top as well?' He asks, turning toward James who apparently has been watching him instead of the pie.

‘I think it’s sweet enough.’, he answers – his eyes never leaving Harry’s face.


	10. Halloween costumes

                                                                                       

Harry pulls the tight white jeans up over his thighs and butt, layering the cream coloured and definitely slightly see-through tunic on top – his head almost getting tied up with the laces attached to the front of the shirt.

Sticking his fingers into the clear hair gel and arranging his fringe softly upwards, checking carefully in the bathroom mirror, before placing the blood red flower crown on top of his head. It looks pretty, both delicate and a bit gruesome due to the colour.

He takes a couple steps back to see his full body frame in the reflection. The black vines and crimson flowers he had drawn on with body paint all over his torso, arms and neck (with James’ help, who was incredibly willing to take on the task) still shine through the flowy shirt – looking like they’re growing out of him, like they’re part of him. It’s not extravagant but he definitely likes the creative part of it and doubts anyone else will show up looking like him.

He’s dressed as Persephone, daughter of Zeus and somewhat princess of the underworld. It might be a bit of a unique choice but him and James share a passion for all things Greek mythology as they randomly discovered while watching the history channel one rainy afternoon.

And then Mercedes had handed out flyers for the McQueen’s Halloween party at the Dog, making sure to emphasize that costumes were essential. And that **_everyone_** was invited. Everyone including people who might have scorned some other villagers with their affair and had mostly been hiding out in the apartment to avoid unnecessary tantrums.

So Harry had put the flyer on the kitchen table, James seeing the bright orange thing immediately when he came home that day. His eyes flicking over it breifly before shooting him a questioning look. _‘You wanna go?’_ No hint of worry about how ‘certain people might not want us there’. Like the only thing that mattered was Harry’s opinion. It made the young man glow with a new confidence found from within. So he had said yes, costume ideas already running through his mind. Hadn’t been sure if James would think coordinated couple ones would be too tacky but when this particular thought popped into his mind he couldn’t help but ask…

_________________________________________________________________________

_‘How would you feeling about being Hades?’_

_They were sat together in James’ bathtub, back to chest, silky bubbles all around them._

_‘Do you think I’m that devilish?’ He feels the older man lean down to nip on his shoulder blade, his teeth sharp against his slippery soft skin._

_‘Let’s just say I think you could fit the role quite well….’ He trails off, smirking because he knows without looking his boyfriend will have an indignant expression on his face._

_‘Fine, I’ll take the bait. What will you be then? Cerberus?’ James asks with a laugh threatening to burst through his voice, squeezing his arms around Harry’s._

_‘Cerberus? Really? You think I’d dress up as a dog? Always happy to talk about kinks James but I think the furry thing is too far for me…’ His chin is near water level and he almost swallows some of it as his grin widens uncontrollably through his own teasing, the other man pinching him just below his ribs – knowing that there’s a sensitive freckled spot for him he usually loves to trace with his tongue._

_‘Very funny.’_

_‘Mhm, I know I am…No, I was thinking of going as Persephone actually.’_

_‘Oh yeah? Gonna let me seduce you with some pomegranate seeds?’_

_‘Not sure if there’s a euphemism somewhere in there but…yes.’_

_______________________________________________________________________________

So here he stands in the last evening sun shining through the window, tying a light beige cape around his shoulders, hoping it will somehow resemble a chiton, to finish everything off. With one final look in the mirror he sees a mixture of debauchery, strands of chest hair peaking out and the drawings on his skin looking almost like love bites, and innocence – the roses in his hair like a princess crown and the white cloth over his skin looking immaculately pure.

He’s bitten on his lips a few times and they look red enough already with the strawberry lipbalm he’s used since the weather has gotten colder. He feels pretty amazing and he hopes that a certain lawyer waiting in the living room outside will think the same….

‘James?’, he calls out as he makes his way through the flat. ‘I’m finally ready. You wanna go already or is it too early for us to arrive fashionably late?’

He stops when he crosses the door frame to the living room area. James sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen table. A glass of what Harry has come to know as his favourite bourbon in front of him and his phone in his hand.

He looks sinful. _Sinfully good._ A dark grey cape draped across his broad shoulders, coming down longer than Harry’s own. The black button up shirt he’s wearing seems to be of a shinier material than his day to day ones, and there is definitely a tiny bit of transparency to it. The bulging of his upper arms and his firm stomach shimmering through more than inviting. He’s left the first couple buttons undone, so Harry can see the beginning of his pectoral muscles and suddenly he understands how someone like Persephone could be persuaded to join the dark side, he really does.

He’s casually holding the silver gleaming sceptre they had bought online in his other hand, not even noticing how powerful it makes him look. Like he belongs on a throne and Harry would do anything to make sure he gets it. His black dress pants make his legs look even longer than usual and his polished shoes of the same colour gleam in the light, making everything come together perfectly.

And then he finally looks look up, the ginger undertones in his beard adding that tiny little extra something to the dark ensemble, and their eyes meet acroos the room.

Harry steps in further, sees how wide James’ pupils are as they take him in. He looks him and up and down..and down and up again…not even trying to hide how he’s licking his lips and Harry feels like he’s being devoured right as he’s standing there.

‘Are you sure we need to go to this party?’ His boyfriend asks he slips out of his seat, letting the sceptre lean against the counter, both his hands now free and reaching out to him. It seems like he doesn’t know where to start, tracing both his collarbones simultaneously through the thin with cloth and then letting just his fingertips and nails run down his sides – making him shiver with lust – and ending up on his hips. His thumbs pressing down gently yet possesively while some of his other fingers span out further backwards just to where the globes of his butt start.

‘Oh we definitely do.’ He answers, not being able contain the tremor of arousal in his voice. James smirks. ‘Can’t you see how much effort I’ve put into my outfit?’ The older man draws on one of the strings of his shirt, Harry reaching out and playfully holding his hand down to stop him. ‘It would be a shame to waste all of that now, wouldn’t it? I mean, look at us. Someone needs to show this village what a power couple could look like, right?’, he teases.

‘Right.’ James answers before he promptly leans down to catch his lips. Harry lets him slip in a bit of a tongue, enjoying his first taste of alcohol for the night that way, and moans at the smooth wetness of their mouths gliding together. He grips James’ arms tightly and relaxes completely as he feels their bodies move in sync.

After a while Harry pulls back, their breaths still mixing heavily together in the middle.

‘Come on.’, he says. Walking past James who has reluctantly let go of him. He finishes the drink on the counter, grabs the sceptre and passes it over to the older man. ‘Just think, the sooner we leave…the sooner we can get back here again. And as much as you seem to appreciate my costume…I know you’re a fan of what’s underneath as well.’ He wiggles his eyebrows, almost laughing again at the still entranced look on his boyfriend’s face. He can’t believe he has so much power over this man.

James shakes his head, seemingly shaking himself out of his little fantasy.

‘Alright, that’s definitely an incentive if I’ve ever heard one.’

Harry slips on his white vans and they go outside, the door falling shut behind them. He holds out his hand. ‘Ready to go?’

James takes it immediately, his hand warm and solid and his thumb immediately stroking over his palm, calming down his slightly nervous fluttering pulse at the prospect of who else might be at the party. ‘With you, always.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!  
> This little story is finished and I bid you goodbye until next time.   
> I hope you enjoyed it and am always grateful for kudos, comments and future ideas.  
> Much love xx


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